


Impossible Woman (or What to do with a free morning?)

by Fervent_dreamer



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fervent_dreamer/pseuds/Fervent_dreamer
Summary: He laughed even as she thumped his chest in retaliation.“You’re impossible,” she said, fondly exasperated.Thane cradled her face. He gently ran a thumb along her cheek bone, stroking her, loving the way her mouth turned up when she looked at him.“You’re impossible,” he told her in a soft whisper. She was too. An angel in human skin, mercy in a single touch, courage in a voice, and this impossible woman impossibly loved him.





	Impossible Woman (or What to do with a free morning?)

The door slid open before him with a soft hiss. Thane blinked twice, letting his vision adjust to the unexpectedly dim lighting of the cabin. A hush blanketed the room, save for the soft hum of the engines and the bubbles of the empty fish tank on the wall.

Two decks down, the party continued on. When he left, Jack and Grunt were mixing arm-wrestling with alcohol while the others toasted everything from the return of the crew, to Massani’s gun, to Joker’s hat as they became more and more inebriated.

Shepard had been loud and visible at the beginning, giving a speech welcoming back the crew, commending Joker for his act of bravery, thanking EDI for fending off the collectors, praising the team for the parts they played on their harrowing mission. The following cheers had been deafening in the small space. Laughter and tears followed as she poured drinks and made rounds making sure that everyone received a handshake or clap to the back. Then, as everyone was swept up in the reverie, she slipped out the door.

That was half an hour ago. Only he and Samara had noticed. Samara, because she was content to observe the celebrations. Thane, because Shepard held his attention, always.

He was torn that half hour, between wanting to follow Shepard and allowing her some privacy to process the last couple of days. Samara eventually caught his eye and Thane saw her read him with the weight of a millennia. With a shake of her head and a knowing tilt to her lips she pointedly looked at him, then towards the elevators that would lead him where he wanted to go.

Thane huffed, laughing at himself. He nodded his thanks then followed her silent suggestion to the Commander’s cabin.

Shepard had lead them through the impossible with little more than the strength of her character and the loyalty it had inspired. Every single crew member, saved. A miracle. The squad lived, yes because of weapons she armed them with, but mostly because she gave them all something to live for. Their sons and daughters, sisters and fathers, their demons laid to rest, nothing had been too small or trivial for her to turn her considerable gaze to.

She was tired. They were all tired, now that it was over, but she seemed especially weary.

Glancing about, Thane saw her hard suit had been tossed behind the desk chair in a chaotic lump. The open bathroom door to the right, revealed a stained shirt in the sink and discoloration around the drain. The stain appeared grey to his eyes, but with the fastidious Commander, it could be nothing other than blood.

His second set of lids blinked and his brows raised. Thane’s head snapped toward where Shepard was lying on the bed.

The legend herself lay curled in a half moon on what had been dubbed ‘his’ side of the mattress in nothing but her under garments and a tank top. The top sheet and the blanket were crumpled in a pile at the foot of the bed. Her red hair splashed across the white of her pillow. A smooth brow along with the steady rise and fall of her chest broadcasted a deep and restful sleep.

She was fine. Thane sighed.

His immediate concerns allayed, Thane stole across the room, careful to make small purposeful noises. The light tap of his boots on the floor, the soft swish as he brushed his jacket against the railing down the two short stairs, all served to alert her sleeping mind to his presence. By doing this, when he eased his weight onto the mattress, she simply stirred and twitched, curling a little further into the pillow, rather than waking instantly and assaulting him. Closer now, he could see the injuries she’d been hiding from the rest of the crew.

A long wound scraped along her thigh nearly from hip to her knees, right where there was a gap between the plating on her greaves. It was fairly shallow but wide, exposing a swath of the biomesh that resided under much of her skin. The wound glistened in the dim light. Thane caught the lingering waft of menthol and antiseptic that medi-gel carried. There was no fresh blood, which was a relief, and he could see small patches of skin being regenerated by the cybernetics. In a few hours there would be no evidence a wound ever existed.

That was the most obvious injury. The knee of the same leg had swelled to almost twice the size of the other and he didn’t need to touch in order to feel the heat radiating off of it. It had been hours since their escape from the Omega Relay, why was it still so swollen? There was the same shade of grey in a thin line across the side of her undershirt, as had been all over the shirt in the bathroom. More blood. Dried. A bruise that was already fading to green spread across her chest from where he clearly remembered her slamming into the edge of the Normandy in that last, heart stopping leap.

Standing anxiously in the open airlock, he had waited for her to jump. Having already steadied the other two as they vaulted over the divide and landed in the ship, Thane had stretched out his arm, reaching out to her while Joker continued to lay cover fire. Sprinting up the ledge with a grim set to her mouth, Shepard pumped her legs once, twice, then launched herself in the air. Thane remembered seeing, between heartbeats, that she wasn’t going to make it. On instinct he had flared his biotics to give her a desperate boost. Even though he never used them that way, even though they had just as much a chance of hurting her as helping her, he shot out the energy. She’d landed with a hard crash into the edge of the ship. Thane, ignoring the harsh twinge in his chest, had immediately latched onto her. Fighting her weight and the inertia of the turning ship, the two of them managed to haul her up and in, slamming the airlock closed with a fist.

Shepard had spared a hard, grateful kiss for him, before striding towards the cockpit, as sure and unshakable as anything.

Re-examining the memories, Thane could see the slight hitch in her step, the way she held her torso rigid. She had also been one of the few to not change out of her armor for the subsequent celebration. It had probably been providing the support she needed to stand and walk without an obvious limp.

“Siha,” he sighed, shaking his head to himself even as he reached out to brush a hand through her hair.

It wasn’t a lack of trust. Thane knew her well enough to know she didn’t hide her wounds because of that. She simply tried to live up to her reputation. Even when she didn’t have to.

Why was she like that? What in her history made her so determined to be untouchable? He loved her -it was startling how quickly and easily it came to him- but he didn’t know her. He wanted to though. He wanted to know everything and now they would have time for that. Just enough.

He rested his hand on her cheek, feeling the heat radiate off of her body. He saw tiny flashes of green irises as her eyes fluttered open.

“Thane?”

“It’s me,” he murmured, brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Is the party over?” she asked. She leaned into his touch then closed her eyes again.

“Not hardly. It’ll be hours yet before they stop,” Thane said, amused.

“Good, they deserve the celebration.” She blindly reached out and tugged at his jacket. “Stay?”

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Alright.”

Leaning back, he stripped off the jacket, tossing it off to the side and over to her desk chair. Atop it followed his vest, then his pants, each landing with a soft thump.

It took some contorting for him to reach the sheet without jostling her. Thankfully his skills as a master assassin were up to the challenge. He pulled it haphazardly up and over the two of them. They shifted and settled in. Thane wound up with Shepard’s head on his shoulder and her leg splayed over his, propping her swollen knee on his thighs. Shepard shifted up onto him a little more, flinching when she hit the bruise, then settling back down around the injuries.

She brushed her lips against his collarbone, he pressed his to her hairline. His Siha fell back asleep with a quiet contented mumble. Thane let the warm weight of her press him to the mattress, anchoring him to the present moment. He sighed, utterly content. As he picked out the scent of her beneath the medical gel and lingering sulfur of spent heat sinks, he sent a thankful prayer towards Arashu for keeping her safe, and delivering her once again to his arms.

He soothed a hand up and down her spine, feeling her back rise and fall under his palm. It had been close. Too close. One mistake, one wrong snap decision, one missed shot and-

 _Stop._ He told himself firmly, there was no point to dwelling on it now.

If there was no point to that, then how about the future?

As if to spite him, Thane’s mind turned sharply from their mission to his illness; how it was good he completed the mission when he did, because any later and he wouldn’t have been able to help. Thoughts about how little time the doctors had given a few months ago followed close behind the first. He would need to make an appointment to see how far along he’d progressed and to see what kind of treatments he could take to delay the illness as long as possible.

Thane groaned softly at himself. He pressed his free hand against his eye as if that could stop the running of his mind. Always something to worry about. He needed to meditate- to wrangle his thoughts back under control, but he didn’t wish to move. Discipline could wait until the morning.

The downside to ignoring discipline was, that despite his comfortable position and the long day they’d just had, it still took him hours to fall wearily into sleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke instantly, but then relaxed when he realized that Shepard was simply detangling herself in order to get up. The sheets rustled softly and he received a chaste kiss on the cheek before she padded over to the shower. Her wounds must have closed enough for her to bathe comfortably.

Thane returned to dozing. He’d slept for only a couple of hours. With the mission over, he had time for a bit more. His torso felt cold with her gone, but he was supposed to leave his chest exposed whenever he could, so the blankets remained where Shepard had inadvertently spilled them around his waist.

While he floated between conscious states, a memory tried to surface on him, thankfully it was easy to push away as he twitched into a more comfortable position before drifting back off into a deeper sleep.

He later blamed that for how he was taken unawares.

Thane thought he was on Kahje for moment, memories and dreams shifting and melding. He had to be. He was warm, at ease, and Kolyat had left the window open, because something light and tiny crawled over his bare stomach.

Lazily he waved at it. When it left he settled back down.

The mattress shifted and Thane groggily recognized the smell of the sheets on the Normandy. Hmm. Not Kolyat then. Shepard must have left the window open.

A feather touch dipped into the hollow of this throat then trailed a length down his sternum, down his abs, down to-

Thane felt a slow heat pulse low in his body even when that touch had stopped short. Pity. His subharmonics rumbled a bit even if his voice didn’t quite mix with it. The touch stayed two inches from where he wanted it to be, not moving. However, after a minute or so, he was able to ignore it.

Moments after he relaxed again, smooth fingers traced back up his torso. Nails then dragged along either sides of his ribs, with just enough to make him shudder. Gods. Someone, had _ideas_ for the early morning.

Thane managed to keep his smirk to just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was torn between joining game, or letting Shepard continue her teasing. Both options appealed to him, neither had a downside.

The touch disappeared then, and a small yearning twisted in his chest. Before he was able to open his eyes, two strong hands gripped his thighs and stripped their way up from his knees and stopping right at his groin. Thane’s eyes shot open as he gasped. The expert pressure control in those fingers prevented the rough action from hurting and instead lit up the erogenous path like a light strip.

Lifting up to rest on his elbows, Thane looked down. Shepard grinned at him from where she had settled between his legs. Her hair tumbled loose in a red wave that contrasted with the white sheets bunched over his pelvis. Her hands rested firmly at the sensitive junction of his hips and thighs. The nerves there shot many kinds of signals to both his brain and his anatomy. She hovered low over his rapidly growing erection.

The rather overeager reaction would have embarrassed him were he a younger man. As it was, he simply flexed a fist and relished in the anticipation.

“Good morning,” she said, laughingly coy.

Thane forced his voice steady when he answered, “Good morning. I take it you’re feeling better?”

She hummed an affirmative as she reached up to pull down both the sheets and his undergarments, simultaneously exposing him and trapping his thighs. Thane’s muscles twitched in small rapid movements that could probably just be called a quiver. It was cool without the sheets, but not as cool as it had been hours ago. Shepard had turned up the heat in the room.

Sly move. Heat tended to make him slightly lethargic, not excessively, just enough to allow Thane to be indolent.

She bent down, letting him see the naked length of her back curve down to her shapely rear. No bruises, no scrapes, no biomesh. At least, not from this angle. Only firm muscle shifting under skin that he longed to grasp in his hands.

“I am feeling much better. So much better that I’m actually not sure what to do with my morning, now that there isn’t a mission.” She said, the warmth of her mouth close, so close. Oh, how she teased. Her green eyes looking wickedly up at him through her lashes.

Hours before the mission, there hadn’t been time for more than the basic explorations. His inner struggles had made him urgent to become lost in her. He assumed her concern for the mission was what had made her equally insistent, for she had matched him move for pace for mood. While that had been beautiful and desperate and raw, this… this was indulgent in a way Thane didn’t think he’d ever allowed himself to be.

“I’m sure,” Thane delicately cleared his throat and tried again, “I’m sure there are plenty of tasks that can fill your morning. The crew -”

“The crew?” she asked incredulously.

Thane ignored the interruption and continued on. “The crew would be pleased to see their commander up and about. Especially so soon after last night’s celebrations. Officer Lawson probably needs help with hazard pay forms that need review. I’m sure Dr. Chakwas has stock that needs replenishing and that-”

He only stopped when Shepard finally let her head fall to his hip as she giggled. Her hair fell like silk over his length, light and teasing, forcing him to swallow down a moan. Her giggle turned to a laugh, and it was worth the effort.

“I can’t believe you!” She said, raising her head again. She smiled, bright and perfect. Beautiful. “Here we are, in bed after surviving the impossible, and you want to talk about the _crew_?”

“I believe you implied that -” He cut off with a shout as she swallowed him from tip to root all at once in retaliation.

His hips jerked and his head fell back. The torrid oblivion of her mouth stealing what little breath he had. Thane willingly parted with it. She swallowed once around him, then pulled back in an obscene slide back up his length.

No longer able to resist, Thane’s hands buried in her hair. Shepard smirked even as she traced her lips with his erection, the tip of which was beginning to leak.

“Yes.” she said in regards to his hands in her hair, before licking up the precum then bobbing back down over him.

Fuck.

His hands carefully tightened in the red waves, guiding her with the tension. She moaned when he did it, sending a delicious reverberation to his already building arousal.

Years. It had been years since the last time he’d had this outside of a memory. He’d never sought out company after his wife’s death, the battle sleep too strong for him to care. Even after he’d avenged her he didn’t indulge in the memories often. How could he when he was the reason she was dead? His negligence and carelessness killing her as surely as the batarian who pulled the trigger.

Irikah had taught him what it was to live. Shepard taught him that he was allowed to, even after what he’d done, even if he was soon to die. She’d given so much to him. She gave him his son. She presented him with redemption. She offered him pleasure. She gave him herself.

Goddess Shahvet! Shepard followed where he guided her, but she drove him to madness with her tongue, lips, and just the barest hint of teeth. Thane had only the illusion of control, and even that he would have given up if she hadn’t explicitly asked. On and on she went, banishing words and even the slightest hint of a thought from his mind.

Thane was both grateful for and irritated at his trapped thighs. He had little leverage in this position. He didn’t want to hurt her, and as wonderful as this was, he craved a different heat. Even so, he groaned when he tried once then a second time to stop her actions.

“Siha,” he said softly panting. “Enough.” An entreaty, not a demand.

For a moment he thought she’d ignore him, but then a glint entered her eye and she lifted off of him. Despite it being what he wanted, he bucked instinctively when left naked to the air.

“Do you have something else in mind?” She raised a brow at him. A mix of their fluids glistened on her swollen lips. One captivating trail of it dripped down her chin. She let it, making no move to wipe it away. A flush crested her cheeks and splashed down her neck and chest.

He couldn’t take it. Thane caught her chin between a crooked finger and his thumb, staring at the feast she presented to him.

He kissed her, deep, filthy, but sincere in the way that only a man who suffered a long drought could. Laving from her chin to her lips, he then delved into her mouth, hunting for every trace of their combined taste. A taste he’d barely begun to know.

Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her to him, encouraging her leg around his waist so he could twist her onto the bed and into a better position to grind into the hot apex of her. Any cries she may have made were devoured before they could leave her lips. She shuddered underneath his ministrations. Her leg, whole and perfect, hooked around him, the heel digging into his back, while her arms clutched at him. One hand pushed at the back of his head, demanding more, and the other clutched at his shoulder. The sharp bite of her nails sent even more heat to his groin.

He turned them over just enough so he could drive against her clit, a spot so helpfully mentioned in the research he did before the other night. She writhed against him. Her fluids coated the underside of his shaft, hot, slick, and threatening all his rational thought. He was hard enough for it to hurt. Tempted though he was, he resisted shoving into her. Not yet. Not yet.

He kept at it, until she pulled back, whimpering, “Close. I’m so close, Thane.”

Managing to get a hand between them he massaged her breast before harshly twisting the nipple. Shepard jerked as she came, a hot gush coated him further and he moaned at the feel of it. It took an exorbitant amount of control not to follow her. However it pained him, Thane had plans for the two of them.

He kissed her again, gently this time, coaxing her through the rest of her climax. With a slide of his tongue and a caress at her neck, Thane set about showing her that he belonged to her, body and soul before his soul was taken across the sea. He belonged to her, just as she belonged to him. For Thane had learned his lessons and he wasn’t letting her go.

He’d gotten used to a lack of oxygen in the last couple of years, but she had not. So, he slowed the kiss even if he was reluctant to do so.

“I may have something else in mind.” He admitted, once there was enough distance between them for him to speak.

“Hate you,” she gasped, regaining her breath. “Hate you so much right now.”

Thane chuckled and he turned to finally kick off his improvised restraints. Shepard’s dazed look on her face flattered him and assured him she didn’t mean it in the slightest. She smiled when he turned back to her, but he noticed a glassy sheen to her eyes.

“Are you doing alright?” he asked. The venom effects. Embarrassingly, he’d forgotten.

“You need to come with a warning label,” she said, distractingly running her hands up and down his chest, sending shivers along his over stimulated nerves.

That still wasn’t an answer.

“Siha, please.”

“I’m amazing,” she said. “You need to stop stopping and start starting.”

He snorted, not convinced in the slightest with _that_ statement. She reached up to kiss him again and while he let her pull him down, he kept the kiss chaste. They were both disappointed.

“Thane,” she whined, denied. He kissed her cheek, her eyes, her forehead, her hairline, her nose, and only her lips with his closed.

“I won’t have you forgetting. When we’re done, I promise I’ll kiss you as much as you want.” He swore.

Before she could agree or protest, Thane pushed his fingers into her.

She gasped and jerked at the sensation.

“You’re playing dirty.” She complained even as her hips moved in time with his hand.

“I’m an assassin, not a soldier,” he said. He watched her face closely, wanting to remember every inch of her expression. He memorized the bead of sweat as it ran from her temple to her hairline, catching the light as it went. He savored every hitch in her breath and every flutter of her eyelids. He continued, almost unaware of the words he said. “Playing dirty looks very different between the two. We have different rules.”

He pulsed his fingers in and out, rubbing them along her tight channel. The heat of her made him ache. He reveled in feeling her grip and release him in time with his movements. It matched the memory of the other night, feeling the same sensations around a different part of his anatomy. Thane bit at her collarbone fighting to stay in the present, to not lose himself or his control. She moaned.

With his thumb he circled around her clit, smirking when she swore at him.

“Oh shit - oh fu- Thane! Th-that’s not- mmmh.”

Her inability to complete a thought spurred him on, making him shove his hand harder and rougher into her. His hips twitched involuntarily, but he ignored them in favor of watching her expression. Her brow creased in sweet agony while the mouth he’d so thoroughly plundered hung open enough that when she curled into him, lost to sensation, he felt her teeth against his jaw.

Tiny, breathless gasps escaped from her as her body undulated against his. She’d already crested one peak, he was determined to see her up another.

Thane ducked his head down and rumbled her given name, the familiar consonants and vowels rolling out of him in waves. He spoke into her ear, strands of red hair quivered on his breath, his subvocals rumbled through his chest. Shepard froze, then sighed as she returned to moving with him.

Thane moved to other things; compliments to her, his admiration for her, fragments of poetry, but underneath it all his tones confessed to her a sentiment so fragile and new he wouldn’t speak it now. They had been through so much, but they had still only known each other a couple of months. It would keep. They had time.

He continued the litany and his motions. His wrist began to tire, but Shepard began to shudder, small incomplete motions that told him she was close once again.

“Siha, let go.” He said, nipping at her ear. “Let go.”

A couple more passes over the pearl of her, she spasmed with a whine. Thane couldn’t help his own groan feeling her contract around his fingers and a scoring of nails down his back. He arched as the scratches stung deliciously down his spine and added another layer to his heat.

Almost, almost. Just a little longer.

Shepard panted beneath him, her breasts rising and falling. He slowly eased his hand out from her and she shuddered anyway, her breath hitching. He gathered her to him, just holding her. Thane’s arousal ended up in the crease of her hip, driving him a little mad.

“Siha,” he pleaded, pressing his forehead into her shoulder. He teetered at the edge of his willpower. His pulse hammered hard enough he could feel it down to his fingertips. As his control frayed all Thane could do was hold onto the tattered ends.

Shepards hands moved almost constantly over him. They caressed the lines her nails had marked into him, they massaged the back of his neck, they cupped the back of his skull. Petting him, soothing him, granting him absolution even as he thrummed like a plucked string.

In all reality, he didn’t have long to wait. But it felt like he’d held there for days.

“Thane,” Shepard said finally. She cupped his cheek and captured his eyes with her endless emerald gaze. For a moment, he was transcended, lost in the sea of every emotion she bared to him in that one look.

She felt the same as he.

No matter it had only been a couple of months, no matter that their lives were precarious, she loved him too. The realization ran him through. It reassured him even as it humbled him to his very core.

“Thane,” she repeated. Her legs repositioned so they were spread wide outside of his thighs. Thane adjusted with her, his hands sinking a little into the rumpled sheets above her shoulders. Their hips aligned and the tip of his neglected aching erection pressed just inside her as he paused one last time, looking to her.

“Yes.” She said.

He slammed forward into her hard enough to shove her up the bed if not for how he braced her. She arched into him with a cry. Immediately she grabbed at his arms, holding onto him as they pinned her in place.

Any attempt at control vanished. His instincts violently usurped any thought in his head. Her heat, her wetness, the way she clutched at him consumed him. He thrust fast, deep, and unrelenting. A thread of relief had woven itself into the blaring need to dive, deeper and deeper and even deeper still into her. Words disappeared, but gasps and moans escaped him almost constantly.

He couldn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears and the heat in his veins, but with his narrow focus he saw Shepard’s lips moving and felt her heels helping him slam into her, begging him wordlessly for more. He was helpless to do anything else. He drove harder and harder, moving her within the cage of his arms even as they trembled and burned from the exertion.

Thane knew what death felt like. He’d almost died during training, during jobs, when Irikah passed, and more recently how death kept one hand on his shoulder, ready to pull him away from the galaxy at a moment’s notice. Here and now, Thane felt like he could die if he couldn’t get closer to her, if he couldn’t meld them together so he pushed and pushed for one more inch, one more centimeter of her.

Nearly desperate, he stopped only to hook one of her knees over his shoulder before slamming back into his punishing rhythm. She screamed after a handful of thrusts, her body clenching tight around his. Thane faltered at the sensation, his pace stuttering, becoming uneven until he finally came.

His vision whited out for a moment as pulse after pulse of his seed emptied into her. Shepard’s aftershocks milked him dry, until he finally fell to the side of her, gasping like they’d sprinted through Dantius Towers.

She rolled over, curling into him, and he clutched her back.

“Fuck,” she said.

“Indeed.”

It was silent for a long moment until they were both able to calm and relax from their activities. Thane stared up at the ceiling, skimming through his memories, making sure he’d captured every moment. He didn’t want to lose it. Not one second of it. The disease would slowly take everything from him, but he Shepard would be one of the last things to go. He would make sure of it.

Minutes later, her breath recovered, Shepard rubbed his chest and kissed along his neck, grounding him once again. He let her pull his attention away from his dark thoughts and to her smiling face. She was tired but happy. He'd worn them both out and there was sure to be a nap at some point in the near future.

“You sure know how to spoil a girl, Thane.” She propped her chin on her hands where they were crossed on his shoulder.

“Was this an acceptable use of your morning?” He asked, making no effort to stifle the grin that stole across his face. “I’m sure we could have found some mission logs for you to-”

He laughed even as she thumped his chest in retaliation.

“You’re impossible,” she said, fondly exasperated.

Thane cradled her face. He gently ran a thumb along her cheek bone, stroking her, loving the way her mouth turned up when she looked at him.

“You’re impossible,” he told her in a soft whisper. She was too. An angel in human skin, mercy in a single touch, courage in a voice, and this impossible woman impossibly loved him.

The rest of the morning, Thane made good on his promise to kiss her as much as she wanted.


End file.
